Bloodrites
by N3Ber1us
Summary: The Hunt may have ended, but the Hunters duty was far from over. Thrust into a new world with new dangers, he finds himself caught between a growing storm, as Remnants top players prepare for war, unaware as ancient powers older than time gather their strength in the shadows. With all this chaos he has only one goal in mind, Hunt. (UNDER REWRITE)
1. Prologue:What was Dead Lives Again

**A major rewrite of Paleblood Requiem**

 **Re-read a lot of the feedback from the first one, and decided to change the whole damn thing, trying to make it just a lot better than before, so hope ya guys like it! I know, I know, same old RWBY crossover cliché random guy gets sent to Remnant and shit happens, but I _will_ try to make mine just a little bit unique if at all possible… or fail miserably who knows!**

 **Will be a partial Cthulhu Mythos Crossover, cause there's no such thing as having to many eldritch abominations.**

 **Also Big thanks to Mobiusu14 and Daemonstar for letting me use their self-designed weapons! Check them out on Deviant art; seriously they make some good stuff! show those glorius bastards some love!**

 **Sorry I haven't been able to update recently, been busy.**

 **Also constructive criticism people!**

 **Talk- Great Ones**

 _Talk-self/telepathy_

Talk- normal

 _That which is not dead which can eternal lie, And with strange aeons even death may die_

* * *

Prologue: What was Dead Lives Again

 ** _"...Throughout countless ages, man has crafted itself innumerable tales. Some of which are Fairytales, born of mans dreams of impossible worlds, of knights and of gods, carrying meanings and lessons between its words. Others are of a harsher sort; of death and of pain, of struggle and of hollow triumph, born of mans nihilism, and to remind man of its demons and of consequences to action. If one may dream it, then such a world is possible..._**

 ** _So know I shall tell of a tale..._**

 ** _One of Dreams..._**

 ** _And of nightmares..._**

In the depths of an ancient forest, entombed in a great stone sarcophagus suspended by great chains of steel a lone figure stirred, as if waking from a long dream.

Consciousness fading in and out at random intervals, vision transitioning from shadow-filled reality to nightmarish worlds of the dreamscape, a half conscious mind pulling in and out of wakefulness and eternal dream in a viscous cycle that plagued the dreamer to no end.

Even then a will that shattered gods struggled to pull itself out of the delirium, a fractured mind it was, but a strong one none the less. A broken ego moved from the mire of half formed psyche within his cage of a mind, trying to coalesce into some semblance of a being.

A thousand other voices cried out for control as well, not all wholly human, most were blasphemous caricatures of man's voice horrifically mixed with the cries of myriad other creatures, and a great many belonged to things the likes of which no being of the sane mind should ever have to witness.

Yet still the remnants of this will struggled on, till finally enough had come together to, at the very least rouse the sleeper from the dream.

Groggily, the figure moved his arms, and was meet with the rough-hewn stone of his prison. It did not deter him in the slightest, and he began to beat his fists against the rock, despite his limbs aching in protest, till finally it gave and burst open, quite literally, as the old stone cover was ripped free from rusted iron bindings, launching thorough the air and crushed the vegetation before it, causing the dreamer to fall out of his prison, straight to the cold earth below.

He could feel the cold winds rushing past, biting at skin even through the leather coat. An odd smell wafted through the air, a queer scent not wholly alien, yet not a familiar one either, it wasn't unpleasant though, it smelled… alive, a welcome scent. Tired hands felt something soft beneath the, past the dingy gloves that shrouded them; they ran smoothly beneath the dirty white cloth, in a surprisingly gentle manner.

And that was all before he even opened his eyes. Unsteadily, he forced himself to open them, to gaze back at the new world before them. Darkness shrouded the gnarled, antiquated wood that surrounded him, the great oak trees snuffing out what sliver of moonlight that managed to slip through, crumbling stone ruins stood like graves amongst the foliage, evident of some bygone structure that once enclosed the small clearing.

Digging his feet into the earth below, the dreamer forced himself to rise, albeit unsteadily, to his feet, panting heavily as muscle and bone that had not moved since gods know when ached in response to the sudden action, he fell more than once during the endeavor, but it mattered little to him; all that did, however, was to leave this place.

Something, some instinctual presence at the back of his mind, told him to, a frantic fear that descended upon him as his consciousness returned to him, jumbled thought raced across his mind, memories and images, to terrible to even utter disappeared as soon as they came. But that was not the cause for such desperate action; no, it was another urge that demanded he move, one far greater than any simple fear. No, no it was the impulse, the damnable craving to _hunt_. And he did, without really knowing why.

Finally getting to his feet, the dreamer allowed himself a small measure of pride at his rather pitiful triumph, only to have the ember of joy quashed almost immediately after by the sound of feet upon the undergrowth, followed by the low guttural baying of their bestial owners. The dreamer was given no time to react as the beasts tore through the thick copse before him, hideous things, perversions of nature's creations, flesh so dark he was sure they were formed from the very shadows that surrounded them, their midnight flesh draped in bone, their slavering faces vailed with twisted masks, their glowing red eyes seemed to burn with hell-fire, glinting with nothing but sheer hatred for life. They drew closer, forming a tight circle round the dreamer, howling in glee as they pawed their way ever closer to their prey.

To most, such a situation would have brought with it overwhelming despair; dozens of the demons crowded the clearing now, more and more joining their brethren with each waning second, but he felt no fear. No, as the monsters came he stood in calm and watched. He shot another glance at his foes, crimson meet crimson, and the ones under his gaze faltered, for when those hate filled eyes met his, they saw something far worse. He swept his gaze through the swarm, and sighed.

He would not revel in what would come next, that would damn him as it dammed those before him.

He would not falter either, it would be sacrilege; an act that stood against everything he was, everything he'd done.

No, he did what came naturally to him, even as a haze washed over his mind; it had not dulled the memories of his actions, of his purpose. His hands flexed as he released his favored weapons, a twin blade that sundered enumerable monstrosities in his right, a masterfully crafted flintlock in is left in his left.

He filtered out his mind, the haze helping empty it from all distractions, all that mattered was what lay before him, the whole world was naught but him and the beasts, his hands were no longer hands, they were the very blades and bullets themselves now, he _was_ the weapon now. Experience from a thousand battles filled every muscle every nerve, setting his mind a flame.

This was duty, his _Le désir de vivre._ He was a Hunter, and his prey had so graciously brought themselves forward. The beasts flooded the world, and he would purge them; by the fire of wrath, by steel forged in adversity, by all the arcane energies he could muster, by the very blood that gave them form, he would Hunt.

Yes, the sweet grasp of the hunt, it all came so naturally to him.

The beast surged forth, mouths frothing, foaming their claws hungry to draw blood.

He responded in kind, striding forth to join the dance of death.

He raised his arms and charged.

And the beast screamed, as his blades cut through sable flesh, through their bloodless bodies. He didn't stop cutting. Even when there was nothing left to slaughter.

* * *

He was alone with his thought again, the Hunter clad in shadow, as he stood midst the decaying corpses of the bloodless ones. With his broken mind slowly mending, he allowed himself a short respite, allotting some time to think " _What am I doing again?"_ he asked himself. The question rang in his mind. What had he been doing? The hunt, the battle was long since over, still the beasts persist, as they did now. Why had he done it again?

His head was a haze, a jumble of thoughts and flickering memories, but it was clearing, giving enough clarity to at the very least ask, to think of the situation. He understood his role, but would he still do it? Doubt festered, in his mind it was all he could do no other path was to be allotted to his kind, those ken to the darkness, the evil blood within their veins.

Fresh blood came. Voices hushed and cautions, with a hint of fear, in tongues not known to his spheres of knowledge. He raised himself from his stupor. Drawing himself to full height, weapons clacking as he did, he stared blankly at the strangers.

A squadron of them, men and women, all in the same attire, black garb and strange masks mimicking those of the beasts he'd slew, oddly each seemed to bare the forms of animals. He swept his gaze over them, testing, prodding for any sort of action on their part. All he saw was fear and uncertainty.

They spoke again; their voices were loud and vehement, barking orders in the same strange language.

He pressed onward dangerously, blades scraping the ground below.

His foes drew their own.

So it was to be this way, eh?

Well, it mattered little to him; they would fall none the less. He'd made up his mind.

* * *

Adam Taurus wasn't happy. The mask wearing leader of the White Fang glowered in annoyance at the mess in front of him.

First that bitch of a woman forced him into an alliance, and now here he was, freezing in a ramshackle camp that straddle _far_ too close to the Grimmlands for his liking. A week earlier, his 'ally' had informed him of something that could _potentially_ tip the scales in their favor.

More like chasing fairytales.

" _Damn that Cinder!"_ he cursed to himself, as he sat their listing to the lieutenant, a wolf faunus, explain the current problem.

"So, let me get this straight, you mean to tell me that those idiots haven't reported in for over an hour, and only NOW do you suspect something went wrong!"

"Boss! You gotta understand, it was a pretty big pack of grimm, we just thought they got bogged down!"

"Fuck it" Adam growled as he stood up "I'm tired of sitting around. You clowns hold the fort" he ordered them "the rest of you follow me, were off to find those bastards"

"You got it boss… T-the hell!" on of them screamed, face contorted in fear and horror, hand pointing over to the camps entrance.

Wasting no time, the Fangs leader unsheathed his blade, Wilt, and turned to face whatever had entered their camp, the other members soon following suite.

Adam would never forget what happened next, the image burned into his mind. Courland, the deer faunus he'd appointed leader of the guard forces staggered in through the gate of the walled compound, haggard and bleeding, his mask shattered in half, revealing a face of horror and pain, one of his horns was missing. The man looked like he had one foot in the grave already.

"By the Brothers man!" the lieutenant bellowed "The hell happened to you? Where's everyone else?!"

"G-gods h-h-HELP!" he screamed in response "The forest… the squad… all g-gone… t-that monster… Eyes like fire… the devil in t-t-the flesh …oh GODS HELP!"

"THUNK"

The mans fevered screams were cut as an iron arrow stuck out through where his right eye used to be, the corpse keeling over seconds later. The killer stood calmly in front of the gate, unfazed by the sight before him, he was clad in a leather long coat, a tricorn cap and mask obscuring most of his face, a beautifully crafted bow in hand, which looked too have been made of metal?

The first thing that Adam noticed the moment it recovered from the shock was that the stranger had appeared without any of them noticing, the next thing he noticed was how none of the guards posted outside had responded.

" _How in the hell did he sneak through!"_

He unfortunately got the answer to the latter question first, in the form of two limp bodies just barely visible besides the gate, one cut nearly in half the other a pincushion of arrows.

Almost immediately the rest of the terrorist trained their guns at the man, their shock forgotten replaced with burning hatred. All except Adam, who looked rather unimpressed by the stranger's appearance.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance "And who are you supposed to be? Ironwoods new attack dog? Or just another one of Ozpins pets?"

"…" was his only response, just gazing at them all, his eyes the only visible part of his face, as both a tricorn cap and face mask obscured all else, those crimson eyes cutting through like a knife, eyeing them the way a predator looks at cornered prey, an almost hungry, amused look, as if savoring the last moments of the poor fool he'd soon rip apart.

"Well? Say something! Or are just too scared to talk" Adam taunted.

"… Weak" he responded so quietly they barely heard him, he stepped forward, transforming the bow into a curved blade with a metallic snap; the White Fang backed off in fear of the man who'd so casually slaughtered their comrades, save Adam who glowered back at the stranger  
"What did you just say?"

"They wear weak" stepping forward blade leveled at his face "Will you be any different?"

Before the Fangs leader could strike, the White Fang member beside him roared in fury and charged a longsword in tow, ready to murder the fucker who had the gall to insult his friends after slaughtering them. The Hunter simply sidestepped the clumsy blow and smashed his fist into his enemy's side shattering the man's aura instantly. He fell to his knees, gasping from the strike; his pain was cut short when a blade bit into his neck, lopping of the head.

Adam leveled Blush at the Hunter, who turned just in time to parry the attack with his Bowblade, knocking the blade right back at its owner. Barely managing to duck under it, the weapon impaled the unfortunate henchman behind him, impaling him in the chest, killing him instantly.

With a roar of fury, Adam retrieved his sword and charged in blind anger. The Hunter however had other ideas; reaching out to his side, the space around his hand distorted, wreathing it in pale mist. With slight tug he withdrew another blade, a vicious saber-katana, brought it to bear against the Fangs leader, locking both blades in place.

"Interesting" he mused as Adam struggled against the blow "You are unlike your peers"

"The hell do you think I am!?"

"Someone with the potential to be an actual challenge" the Hunter answered back "I tire of such banal foes, so I hope you don't disappoint"

The power clash soon turned to favor the Hunter, as he swung with such force that Adam staggered to his knees. The rest of his men seeing their leader down charged hoping to save him. The Hunter buried his boot in Adams gut and sent him flying, and turned his attention to the now not-so-eager band of terrorists. Feeling himself skid against the ground, he was grateful for the fact his aura held, and looked back in time to see his men butchered. He was used to seeing the fools flung around as their aura protected them against the worst of the attacks.

He was not prepared to see a dozen good men cut to literal ribbons in mere seconds against a foe a full head shorter than them, his blade dancing through the air as it cut and cleaved through flesh and bone, sending pulpy viscera and gore flying everywhere, cutting through their aura like wet tissue paper. the Hunter ducking and dodging their blows with practiced ease.

The last remaining White Fang screamed in fear, driving his blade trough the man's skull, a last desperate attempt to put it down. His hopes were soon dashed, smashed thrown into a blender and shat on by the gods, as the monster before him casually yanked out the blade, and returned it to its owner, via sheathing it in the poor fool's stomach.

"WHAT THE HELL!" Adam growled as he scrambled to his feet, seeds of fear blossoming in his stomach " _How did that_ thing _survive that! It can't be human, no living being would be able to survive that even with aura-"_ his eyes widened in shock " _he doesn't have aura"_ his legs trembled at the thought, the monster in human flesh before him that had butchered his men didn't even have any aura!

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU!?"

"…Death" was the things only reply in a voice so hollow and bitter, that Adam Taurus, the White Fangs leader, the ruthless monster that had murder hundreds in cold blood, felt true fear in a long time. The same fear resounded in the men around him, their weapons shaking in their jittery grips.

"Is that so?" Adam replied coldly, this fucker was going down here and now. No one looked down on the Fang; no one looked down on HIM! His fear forgotten replace with white hot rage, he stood his ground, wilt griped tightly in his hand, adopting the Iaido stance.

"Get the Paladins!" he roared "this bastard ain't leaving this place alive"

From beneath his mask, a ghost of a smile tugged on the Hunter's lips " _This might be interesting after all"_

* * *

 **And there's the first chapter!**

 **Character stats for the Hunter just clarify a few things**

 **Name: Hunter**

 **Class:** **Troubled Childhood**

 **Level: 544**

 **HP: 99**

 **Endurance: 99**

 **Strength: 99**

 **Skill: 99**

 **Bloodtinge: 99**

 **Arcane: 99**

 **Insight: 40**

 **Trick weapon: Simons Bowblde, Rakuyo, Chickage …(more weapons coming soon, he'll be wielding ALL the weapons from the game, though I already have a preferred load out for him to use)**

 **Side Arm: Evelyn(more coming)**

 **Yeah, ridiculously OP I know, but I grind a lot in the Chalice Dungeons and PVP a lot in this game so yeah, don't worry tough he'll have plenty of challenges ahead of him soon enough!**

 **So good or bad? Let me know and review, or PM if you have anything to say!** **  
** **This has been N3Ber1us and thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 1: The Hunt Begins Anew

**Chapter** **2 is up!  
Thanks for all the support on the first chapter! I'll try to keep things up!**

 **Job Offer: BETA READER PLS (PM me if anyone wants it! free cookies come with the job!)**

 **Also I've decide to add a reply section, so here we go!**

 **Brahman: Don't worry, I know how OP those eldritch fucks are, so I'm not gonna drag in Azathoth or anything like that, he'd one shot the RWBYverse, drive everything mad and do a jig on its corpse. I've just chosen some of the more well-known monsters and a few really obscure Great Old Ones (cookies to those who can guessed them first!) cause let's be honest, Bloodborne's MC is a bit to overpowered for RWBY's world, the fuckers killed like what 3, 4 gods already! So some minor Great Old Ones are the only thing with conceivably enough power to prove an actual threat to him.**

 **soberan 123: Nah, he's to skilled to join Beacon, it'd be unfair, plus his moral standards ( or lack thereof) would really clash with everyone else there, but he _will_ be helping them, just not join Beacon, and don't worry I've got that figured out.**

 **That's all for now! On to the story!**

 **I do not own RWBY or Bloodborne, otherwise this crossover would have happened already**

 _"What are you still doing here? Enough trembling in your boots. A hunter must hunt."_

* * *

Chapter 1: The Hunt Begins Anew

If there was one thing the Hunter would admit, was that the man Adam before him was either completely insane for even thinking he could beat him after having his ass handed down to him, or absolutely bull-headed for still having the willpower to continue trucking on after that very same ass-handing.

Still, the Hunter was still the Hunter, and he really didn't care much either way.

As such, the very moment the order came from Adam's mouth, he responded the way he normally did when faced with such a threat.

That is to say with extreme amounts of brutal violence.

He dashed forward with the intent of severing the beastmans head of being done with it. What he did not expect was the sudden and rather rude interruption by the rest of the rabble, who so conveniently remembered they existed the moment their leader was threatened. The ones standing closest to Adam rushed forward, forming a small guard around him of about ten men strong, force that under normal circumstances, would have been more than enough to halt a single mans charge.

Unfortunately for them the Hunter was no mere man. He did not even slow as he meet their stalwart defense of blade and bullet head on. Instead it would be more apt to say he went _through_ their number, utterly and completely shredding them as he passed leaving only bloody chunks in his wake.

Sadly his quarry had used the sudden intrusion as a chance to flee to Great Ones know where.

A shame really, but it mattered little to the Hunter. The man Adam would have to wait, he had more immediate concerns for now.

To their defense, his prey actually took up the challenge with fervor, either in rage for their comrades or their own desperate desire to live. Oh how piteous a sight indeed.

He charged, arcane energy pouring to his legs, his flesh and armor melted into silver, weapons evaporating into the mist; Quickening the lost hunter art, the ability to force the body into an ethereal form for long enough to cover immense spans of ground in seconds to reach the enemy; mere moments later he was in the heart of the crowd, one unfortunate sod directly below him.

Luckily he didn't suffer long, though his head, frozen in silent fear, said otherwise, figuratively of course seeing as well, he had quite the trouble speaking now, or living for that matter.

Impressively, despite the terror inducing sight, the rest of the Fang managed to remember their job of murdering the fucker, and managed to haul ass to his general direction.

An act the Hunter found rather impressive given the dismal impression they gave him earlier that night.

* * *

 _Fresh blood matted the ground, the Hunters face a mask of neutrality, though distaste of the bloodshed went unsaid. The new comers proved an exciting (though only briefly) new challenge at the very least, their guns firing at a speed that actually surprised him, they also proved quite resilient, as in it took him at little longer before they were meaty chunks on the forest floor due to an odd energy that guarded them, wreathing their form shimmering like light and crackling like lightning when he struck, it was more of an annoyance than anything else really._

 _Approaching their mutilated remains, he wafted a hand over them calling forth a red mist that soon entered him. What he saw in their Blood Echo's brought to him a mix of emotions._

 _He saw and he knew._

 _This world... it wasn't his own, not the one he left behind at least._

 _New technologies, ideas and even histories! He'd missed a lot since his rather abrupt entombment, an incarceration that still confused, and angered, him to no end._

 _That, and the memories. The memories of the dead._

 _The pain, the death, theirs and others. They had suffered and they had let others suffer all the same._

 _It was disgusting. It was pitiful. Then again he was not truly any better._

 _He sighed, weary and world worn. He had no desire to kill them._

 _He had not even enjoyed killing the ones he'd meet. He only did what he knew._

 _Still, duty bound him to destroy them. Traitors to humanity would be purged no matter the cause, the reason, it would be done._

 _The distant sound of running snapped him back to reality._

 _Their captain, or at least someone with equal rank. He'd survived, though not unscathed. Not by a long shot for the Hunter had seen to that._

 _On reflex he found himself raising his arm to fire but stopped. No reason to waste precious ammo on dead man._

 _Besides, the Hunter reasoned, he might still prove useful..._

* * *

And now, everything came full circle back to the current predicament of an army of unfortunate terrorists facing off against the monster

Their bullets bit into his skin

Their blades tore his flesh.

And did nothing.

Well, that wasn't entirely true, at the very least it tickled the Hunter.

One attempted to skewer him with a spear, only for the Hunter vault over the strike with feline grace, before violently and brutally ripping his free hand into the man's neck and tore his head off, spine and all. Another charged with his blade, sidestepping the attack the Hunter smashed the skull against his face stunning the bear faunus. He cracked his head open with the hilt of his sword.

He pounced on another squadron like a predator to hapless prey, ripping into them with ghastly fury.

A Molotov flew at a fleeing group setting them ablaze, their the scorched corpses illuminating the frenzied camp.

The fools, in their mad panic had lost all sense of strategy and began attacking wildly, hoping against hope to score a mortal blow on the beast that hunted them. Few had managed to even hit their own allies in the chaos, the fallen betraying no semblance of life.

All thanks to something so simple.

Fear.

A feeling the Hunter had long since cast aside. One he remembered well.

Remembered how he felt before, when he faced nightmares made manifest, as he cowered before it like a child cringing at the dark. As it clutched him and grew with every death, every waking moment. Eating him, crushing him.

But then, he cast it off. Saw it for it truly was; a distraction, borne from doubt and ignorance.

Oh, but he did not forget. No, he would never forget the touch of fear.

Instead he honed it. Made it his own. Another tool in his arsenal.

The chaos that night was testament to that fact. The sheer bowl loosening fear he sowed in their ranks proved to be a greater weapon than previously thought by him.

And so he danced, and the Fang danced with him. The dance of Death, in dedication for the Reaper. His Chikage sang as he traced crimson unto the night air, a weave of death as intricate as it was gruesome, with the corpses of dozens beastmen acting as canvas and paint.

There he stood for a single horrific moment, above a field of corpses, a devil under shattered moonlight, fires casting a daemonic glow upon his long shadow, like some great beast crouched upon an ill begotten feast, a comparison not too far off. For the briefest of moments he was on top of the world, to be back at it for Great Ones know how long! He felt alive again, to fight for a clear reason, no strings attached, it felt _good._

At least for 30 seconds, before his brief reverie was shattered by a massive leaden fist, along with most of his bones. The only thing that had alerted him to the attack were the heavy thumping footsteps of something big, deadly and quite angry made its way towards him, next thing he knew a metal fist filled his world view.

"Ugh… Bullocks"

His whole body was numb, the kind that usually set in before a soul crushing pain would rush in, the kind he was unfortunately quite acquainted with, the only upside to it being he learned to get over it fast, had to, being an immobile flesh sandwich on the floor is quite detrimental to surviving against what had probably flattened you. As such, despite his body aching in protest he managed to get back on his own two feet… only to be forced into a roll as another fist flew in over his head, barely missing him.

" _Finally getting serious eh?"_

Lifting his head to face the new toy they had so graciously sent his way, and he felt some genuine surprise when his eyes met it. The disparity between their technologies was obvious to him on their first encounter, but _this_ was just well overwhelming. In front of him stood a behemoth of steel flesh and pneumatic muscle, crudely sculpted in the human form, and positively _bristling_ with weapons, the Atlesian Paladin in all its mechanical glory. It looked to be the result of letting some severely drunk and _possibly_ clinically insane Powderkegs being set loose to do what they wished to a pile of scrap, the result being big, ugly, noisy, and _excessively_ heavy on the BANG-BANG. It was a thing of beauty.

"SURPRISED YA SICK FUCK! NOT SO HIGH AND MIGHTY NOW AREN'T YA!" The White Fang within called out, his voice booming.

"My only regret in doing this is the fact that I'll have to destroy that beautiful thing. Oh well it was never going to fit in my bag anyway…" the hunter replied flatly, with what seemed to disappointment seeping in to his voice.

"EAT THIS THEN!" with a roar, the Paladins missile compartments opened and unleashed a swarm of its deadly payload, all towards the Hunter.

Instinct kicked in and he began running to avoid the pack of flying bombs, to his surprise they followed "Impressive…" he managed before the explosives struck, obliterating the spot where he stood.

Upon seeing the destruction, he grinned madly, he'd killed the fucker! "HAH! GOT YA YOU FREAK! BULLETS GOT NOTHIN ON THOSE BAD BOYS!" he shouted triumphantly… until a massive stone hammer crashed over the hull of the Paladin, bending the metal.

"H-HOW!"

"As I said impressive" the Hunter began coolly as he slipped off from the machine "… but I've faired against worst"

"DAMN YOU!" furiously, the Fang goon swiveled to face the cocky son of a bitch. Muzzles flashed and rang deafeningly as its guns roared to life, intent on shredding the Hunter.

"Oh? So you did have more tricks up your sleeve! How wonderful! Now things are looking interesting!" the Hunters voice crowed as he danced around the hulks shots, defying gravity it seemed as he hefted what looked to be a weaponized tombstone over his shoulder as simply as child hefted a school bag.

Frustration and fear mounting at the laughing monster, the White Fang member charged with a speed that bellied the mechs bulk _"To hell with Adams plan! I'll be dead before the rest get here!"_ they'd hoped to wear him thin using the others as distractions and rush in with the Paladins to crush him in one fell blow, despicable? Yes but wholly necessary.

The way things went however, necessitated a change of plans, now here he was trying to slow down the creep, while the other two mechs were being prepped; the battle raged, earth and concrete blown to smithereens or crushed to dust, either by way of steel fists and heavy ordinance or hammer blow, vehicles and corpses thrown about as titan steel dueled with a monster in man's flesh, whilst each strike of his titanic hammer literally quaked the ground, preventing the metal behemoth from any form of meaningful attack, so too did its massive range and devastating strength keep the Hunter locked in place.

" _Damn it! Just a few minutes they said, it won't take long they said! This shits impossible, what kind of hammer can stun a GIANT FUCK'IN MECH FOR THE GODS SAKE?!"_ the unlucky goon wailed silently, the fight was getting harder and harder the longer it lasted, the shock and awe value of his Paladin long since lost, its ammo and dust energy running dangerously low, his opponent on the other hand, fared much better, comparatively, most of his bone were shattered or outright broken, what few bullets that reached him tore holes through his lithe form. Still, _somehow_ , he kept on fighting!

In fact he didn't even seem tired. Fatigue was not something hunters felt anymore, the blood seeing to that. Too bad the White Fang didn't know that. On top of that the Hunter had long since broken his new foes capabilities. It was strong, had massive range and impressive firepower, and was surprisingly fast, yet its flaws soon became apparent as the fight dragged on; despite its speed and strength it was clumsy, once it started a charge, it couldn't stop, momentum dragging it forward; its ammo pool, thank sweet Kos, was limited and was drying up fast. This would be over soon.

The Hunter swooped in for another blow, scoring a fierce strike on his unit's leg crippling it; he lashed out with a feral jab in response. The desperate strike caught the monster of guard, and pinned his arm, or at least the tattered remains of it, to the spot "NOW!" the goon screamed, a mixture of fear and hope in his voice. If he could just hit then and there, it would be over!

As he lifted the other arm to finish the job his eye widened, his jaw dropped and his bowels emptied for the second time that night. The monster, pinned down chose to discard the dead weight, and with a snarl that sent chills down the terrorist's spine, _tore_ the trapped limb from the rest of his body!

With his mind reeling with disgust and shock, he barely managed to register the things movement as it ran up the embedded arm, and landed roughly on top his cockpit. Cold crimson orbs glared down on him, piercing trough straight to his soul, Kirkhammer raised over head to crush him. He felt like prey under a predators gaze, weak helpless before the inevitability of death. The hammer fell, and at the very least his pain was cut short by deaths grasp as the cockpit crumpled, and the machine toppled with a deafening crash.

Calmly striding over to the heap, the Hunter hefted his severed limb, and reattached it to the bloody stump; he wasn't done yet, as the air around his good hand rippled again, delivering a syringe to it. His thigh stung as the needle pierced through it, injecting the crimson fluid into his veins, almost immediately pain flared throughout his body, as bones snapped back in place, flesh and muscle stitching back to form. It felt worse in his left, as his body worked overtime to restore function to the mangled limb. The pain faded soon after. Experimentally, he moved the limb, closing and opening it. Aside from a slight twinge of pain, it was fine.

"Well… that was most certainly something… nice try though" he muttered through heavy breaths. It was like fighting Shark Giants on steroids, thank the Great Ones these things were clumsy, if that automata were even capable of a fraction of the flexibility those abominations were capable of then that may have ended differently, still it was about time to move on, nothing left to do he-… Shit.

The universe chose that moment to spit in his face again. The remaining Paladins had arrived, too late to have saved their friend, but as luck would have it, good or bad, the Hunter was still there.

"Just _had_ to open my mouth… up yours universe"

Gun barrels raised, missile pods opened, and the Hunter sighed. Change of plans, this was going to be a pain.

* * *

"Damn it! One at a time people! There's plenty of Bullheads to go 'round! Only good thing that fucks done for us…" the lieutenant called to the crowd over the catwalk.

What remained of the White Fang crammed the bases hanger, the lucky ones who ran, the broken ones who'd faced the beast and lived, and those who hid. No other choice remained for survival; there was no stopping the monster. Right now their trump cards had been flipped, one last gambit for its extermination. They weren't too keen on staying around for the results.

"Damn that monster!" Adam growled, his fist denting the rail guard, his plan had failed, hell this whole operation was a disaster! That Cinder may have been on to something about that 'power' she mentioned, but didn't matter in the slightest when it was being guarded by an un-killable thing that ate bullets, took mortal blows like nothing, and could call upon a vast number of weapons! The only thing that stung more than the retreat was the damage to his pride, to be beaten by one man!

"How much longer is this gonna take! We don't have much time; those Paladins ain't gonna last much longer!"

"A-almost done boss! Were just loading up the injured, but we'll be done soon enough! Just feel sorry for the guys were leavin"

"Save it, they signed up for it, best make use of the time they've given us" he replied coldly. "Are the charges set?"

"Huh?"

"For the love of-! The Dust charges! Are they set to blow or are they not!" Adam growled, his patience wearing very thin.

"Y-yes sir! Primed and ready, just say the word and I pull the trigger!"

"Good, if that doesn't kill the thing, then I don't know what will…"

Once they were out, he'd have the Dust bombs detonated, destroying the base, leveling everything in a mile-wide radius. With any amount of luck, the monster would die, no it _had_ too, nothing could survive a blast like that.

"-oss, boss?"

"Huh?" he'd been so caught up in his thoughts; he barely noticed his name being called.

"What now?"

"Everyone's in, evacuations complete sir" the lieutenant replied.

"Good let's get ou-"

An explosion cut him short. The hanger door collapsed in on itself, before blowing inwards with such force, both metal doors were sent hurtling through the air, crushing those to slow to run from them.

"Leaving so soon? I'm hurt, I haven't even payed you back for all the trouble you've put me through" a cold voice called over the breach.

"YOU!" Adam roared seeing the Hunters form come into view; he looked worse for wear, leather armor in torn and ripped, blood caking the leather, still plenty imposing with the Chikage back in hand, a _giant fuck-off cannon_ strapped to the other, _how many weapons does this fuck have on him!_ "Do you have any idea what you've cost me you sick freak!"

"From your reaction, quite a lot it seems, though I find your rage superfluous"

"WHAT!"

"Didn't I say it before? Your men are weak, hardly worth my time; you insult my blade and my skills just by throwing them at me. In the end they deserved it; you deserve it given what you've done" annoyance clear in his voice "though those automata were quite troublesome I'll give you that"

"I'm glad to hear that" Adam snarled back "now it's my turn finish the job!"

"Boss! We gotta go you can't-"

"Save it! I ain't leaving till this bastard's six feet under!" Adam yelled, cutting of his lieutenant's plea. He felt the need to say something again, but one look at the combatants and he faltered. He turned and ran for the nearest bullhead.

"Now that the rabbles out of the way…" the Hunter began lifting his blade "how 'bout we get this started already?"

"Took the words right out of my mouth you freak!"

He was on the Hunter in seconds blade held high to impale the Hunter.

Hunter raised the Chikage to meet Wilt "Feeling's mutual, what say we end this charade?" jumping back, Adam gave his response with a blast from Blush. Hunter dashed off to the sides avoiding the pellets. He surged back in, sword hungry for blood and vengeance.

Adam barely took the blow, parrying it to the side, letting the force of it pull the Hunter down. He went for a strike of his own.

 **"BANG"**

Adam was stunned from the blast, smoke blooming from the Evelyn that had appeared in the Hunters hand. He came in to collect his life, with Adam narrowly ducking his head in time. He took the chance to strike his foes exposed stomach, skewering him with his blade.

With a grunt of exertion he carved sideways, cleaving open the Hunters torso and kicked him back. Stabbing down, the Hunter's blade slowed his propulsion, skidding to a halt.

To the revolutionaries horror the wound quickly began stitching itself back together.

Ignoring the pain he rushed Adam who greeted him in kind as the two began exchanging blows at speeds no normal human could have reached, or comprehend for that matter.

Adam spun back to avoid a rain of bullets from the Hunter, pushing his head back when the Hunter came close. He cut diagonally, breaking through his defense, the force blasting the Hunter back on in a crouch.

"Hah! Now that's the spirit!" the Hunter spat "show me more Taurus! Prove yourself worthy to be called a threat to me!"

Sheathing his blade, he felt it grow heavy as it fed of him, and Adam, seeing his chance took it. He let loose his strength, but the Hunter saw it coming, he'd fallen right into his trap. Lashing out with a lightning strike, he parried the attack.

One. Two. Three slashes landed on Adam, his aura burst and he fell to his knees. His mind in a daze, his eyes unconsciously wandered over to his foes weapon, now a Dai-katana of blood, a two-handed blade of swirling scarlet.

" _This was it isn't it?"_ the Hunter advanced, slow and steady " _I'm going to die by the hands of some monster in the middle of nowhere"_ he crouched low, as if reaching for something " _damn it… DAMN IT! This isn't fair! I haven't even finished what I started! I-"_ a blade fell, landing next to him; Wilt's crimson edge glinted next to him.

"Stand" a voice ordered "Take you blade and stand, or have you lost your fire?"

"Why?" his mouth felt dry.

"Why? Don't ask such foolish things, and do not mistake this as kindness. There is no pleasure in striking a foe that refuses to fight…" the Hunter readied his blade "you've proven yourself the only fun thing to fight since I woke, and I refuse to be robed of my battle. Now. Stand."

Shakily, he managed to get on his feet, taking Wilt in hand, though pointless as it was. He hated it, but he could not beat this thing, he'd given everything in that fight, all he had left was his semblance, if that failed it'd be over. _No,_ it already was, he only lived through the mercy of this monsters boredom.

But he would not let it end like this, his pride demanded retribution, even if it cost him everything!

" _It's all or nothing!"_

He paralleled the Hunters actions, sheathing his blade, the remainder of his aura surging into it.

"Oh? What have we here? One last trick it seems! Well then don't disappoint!" the Hunter looked on in glee, this was interesting, this man had proven to be an actual challenge! He did not falter, he did not give up, despicable as Adam may be, he could respect his tenacity.

"TAKE THIS!" he unsheathed his blade, releasing the entirety of his power in one last blow.

The world turned monochrome as the wave of energy came fast, too fast. The Hunter scarcely managed to summon his Loch Shield; despite its formidable enchantment, the crimson blast was eating its way through his defenses.

"Damn, I underestimated him"

He felt it before he could even drop the shield; the crimson blast shattered his defenses, burning his flesh, scorching his leather garb, blasting away his shield. His body flew back, crashing into the compounds walls, burying him in an avalanche of ruble and crates.

Adam fell to his knees, last of his strength spent. A whirring roar cut through the air, a beam of light blinding him. To his left he heard something uncoil.

"Boss! Get on!"

A bullhead hovered over him, a rope ladder to his side. With some effort he crawled onto it and hoisted himself up, by then they had past the smoldering remains of the outpost.

"Gods you look horrible!" one of the men exclaimed.

"Forget it! Just blow the base already! I don't want any chances of that bastard living!"

They shook their heads in affirmation. With a click, the compound exploded, its thunderous blast and sheer force could be felt from the bullhead.

Despite the pain, Adam smiled, it was over. Finally over, that would be the last he'd be seeing of that monster.

At least for now.

* * *

"That's twice I've been buried today, not my best moment"

Crawling out of the ruble, the Hunter managed to find his footing. He tossed the used blood vial away, its purpose served.

"Ebrietas take me that was close!" the last bit of the fight had taken him aback; the explosion afterwards didn't either, he was just lucky to even survive that!

Still, his prey had eluded him, escaping his clutches, that was going to be a problem " _Well, at least they should assume I'm dead by now, that helps"_ though that did little to help him now, for he had bigger issues.

What was he to do now? He… hadn't really thought of what came after the whole slaughter-the-terrorist plan, seeing how that had turned out he was at a lost. He would hunt them down and finish what they started that was for sure, but what next? Then there were those bloodless beasts; as minor a threat as they were, they were a problem none the less, one he'd deal with soon enough, but there were too many unknowns, too much he didn't know, and he _hated_ not knowing.

A bright light broke his thoughts "Damn, what it is now?" turning to face its source, he felt shock for the first time in a long time. An impossible sight greeted his eyes; a cheerful yellow orb climb lazily into the sky, banishing the last remnants of night. The sun had risen overhead, and the Hunter, couldn't believe it.

There it was a sight that he had thought left him forever, taken by the eternal night. Part of him refused its existence, a mere trick, another illusion, but it wasn't. He could feel its caressing warmth seep into his bone, its warm glow alighting his eyes. This was real.

Faced with all this the Hunter... laughed.

Laughed a laugh of a broken man.

This, all of this! His reward, a bloody, blood stained reward!

It wasn't funny none of it was. But he couldn't stop!

After everything, after all the death, all the pain, all the sacrifice! And his reward?

Even more struggle... even more unnecessary death in a world so far off from his own.

One where beasts wore the skin of men and shadows prowled the den of night.

In such a place what is a Hunter to do but what is asked of him? Yes, that which came so naturally to him.

A new Hunt had begun, one free from the Great Ones grasps, and this time he would see it succeed.

* * *

 ** _"And so the stage is set! The curtains rise to a bloody dawn heralded by the drums of war! A new chapter, a new player upon the board! A new Tale to be spun in this world of Bloody Evolution, one the likes of which shant be forgotten anytime soon..."_**

 **And done! That's it for this chapter folks! The fights over, but the wars just begun! Next chapter will have our universes whipping boy, er, I mean MC find out a bit more of his new world, and of course the introduction to dear old Oz!**

 **Just to clarify, I plan to have the prologue up till chapter 2 to be set in around halfway through Volume one, while the rest of this fic takes place around the start of Volume 2 onwards.**

 **Well this has been N3Ber1us! Signing out!**

 **update 25/10/2017: changed part to fit more in line with the tone**


	3. Chapter 2: Culture Shock

**Sorry for the Delay! But the periodicals have been killer!**

 **BTW timeskip happens 'round halfway of this chapter to the start of Volume 2**

 **Time for reviews! Here we go!**

 **Vortiivask Jaeger: I believe in build-up, as in I plan to get the fuck killed in a time just right for him. You know, like when he's about to do something pretty fucked up to a certain brawler ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)**

 **Justaquestion12: Made it a bit obvious huh? Well she ain't goin to be the only one! Plot twist! Not telling who's gonna be the second one though, I'll leave that for you guys to guess!**

 **Ddragon21: Nah, he's just a little unhinged and pretty OK with murder. He's of the mind that the ends-justify-the-means. And yes he WILL struggle, but that will be spoiling a bit much.**

 **Anyhow time to get this party started!**

 _"The night brims with defiled scum,_

 _And is permeated by their rotten stench._

 _Just think, now you're all set to hunt and kill to your heart's content!"_

* * *

Chapter 2: Culture Shock

He had left soon after day break, leaving the crumbling base to the elements. He didn't bother checking for anything to salvage, aside from him, ever thing else had been destroyed by the blast.

No matter, he had other ways.

He knelt down and shut his eyes. Casting his mind out, he called to the dark of the cosmos, fishing for a certain response.

It didn't take long.

When next he opened them there before him were a group of grotesque creatures, 4 in total. Pale, sickly things, with a detestable likeness to malformed infants.

The Messengers, a Hunters faithful friend and servant.

His eyes softened. To most, they were a sickening sight, but to him they were a welcome thing, a fragment of what was good from the Dream. An old friend to be greeted.

"Long time no see little Ones" he greeted them.

The Messengers happily clapped in response.

"Sorry to be a bother to you again, but I require your assistance once more"

They gave him a questioning look, as best as their deformed faces could make.

"Yes, a new Hunt has begun, and I need all the power of the Dream I can muster. What's left of it anyway…"

Nodding in response, they slunk back into the fetid pool of cosmic slur from where they came, returning moments later bearing all sorts of trinkets and tools; Molotovs, Quicksilver bullets, and more, all essentials a hunter needs for battle.

He cared little for the price; he had Blood Echo's to burn.

Preparations complete and weapons at the ready, with his Hunters gear repaired and cleaned, he choose to follow the sun along its horizon. He had no real destination in mind, just leave and hopefully bumble into the next fight.

It felt oddly comforting, not knowing where to go; it reminded him of his early days during the hunt, the confusing maze that was Yharnam, and all else surrounding it. An absurd thought, but nonetheless it reminded him of slightly better days, when all he had to do was kill a few beasts.

It was certainly better than knowing the dark truth of the cosmos, better than being the pawn of beings so far above humanity that they were practically gods. Yes simpler days, easier days.

Though the wood from which he found himself in was infinitely better than those from before; they were lush, green with full healthy boughs that rose skyward, with slow winding rivers and streams, and cool fresh air filled his lungs with every breeze.

Still, experience called for caution. He kept his weapons in hand.

Though several days of travel brought with it scarcely any sign of the things, with only one real skirmish 3 nights before really accounting for anything. What had happened to the bloodless things from before? He was certain there had been hundreds the previous night. Had the last battle spooked them? Maybe the ones he'd slain were all there were in that area.

At many time in his life, Hunter had made the mistake of thinking he was in the clear, only for _everything_ to go wrong, very, VERY fast.

Perhaps fate hated him so, but he was no longer under its sway, though then again that could be the reason. Perhaps his actions had caused some Great One out in the vastness of existence to curse him, if one did; he intended to kill it slowly and painfully. Whatever the reason things always went wrong at the worst of times. Especially when he questioned his luck.

He smelled them before he saw them, hollow and musky, their baleful howl and roars breaking the forests silence. Then the scream came, with a scent of fear and panic.

"Ava!"

"Oh bother" he sighed.

* * *

"Run!"

Figures dashed out of the woods, two children far to young be out and about at such a place; a girl clearly just reaching adulthood, a broken blade in one hand, the other clasping her companions, a girl even younger, barely over 14.

" _Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" s_ he berated herself

" _I can't believe I actually did this! I just graduated Signal, I wanted to be a hero like my brother Jaune, I had the skill to fight, and good weapon to boot; shotgun sword, simple and easy, just shoot n' stab"_

She stumbled, feet crashing into something hard, pain flaring up both.

"Jane!"

" _To think I even managed to drag Ava into this!"_ the poor girl had wanted to join her awesome huntress sister fight some grimm, she couldn't refuse such a request, not from her. She was still in training but she was doing great, her own weapons, a pair of chain-claws serving her well.

But she failed, she misjudged their numbers, she misjudged his skill, and now here she was, aura depleted, weapon broken, now way to defend herself or her sister

She pushed herself, ignoring the blinding pain in her legs, they must've been sprained she realized

" _Can't stop now! Gotta save her! It's my fault were in this mess, I can't let it end like this! I gotta save my sister!"_

"I'm fine Ava, were almost there! Just a bit more!" her hand found the younger girls and they bolted.

"There!" a break in the woods, she felt her spirits rise. They would make it!

That's what she wanted to believe, truth is hardly ever so kind.

Strong hands found her legs, and fell again, sprawled over the forest floor.

Pain washed over her, barely able to move her own form. A greater force held her, its rancid breath on her neck.

"S-sis!" a terrified scream shattered her thoughts

"Ava!" she was surrounded, three Beowulf's pawed closer, snarling and roaring.

" _I can't let it end like this! I can't let her die because of me!"_ she felt like she was on fire, every fiber of her being strained to free herself.

Whether by some miracle, or of luck, one last burst of aura knocked the Beowulf of her.

No real plan or strategy behind her actions, she rushed the grimm closest to her sister, a fist connecting to its midnight hide.

"Oh crap…" with a howl, she felt her bones shatter as the grimm backhanded her into a tree.

" _This was it"_ her hands dug into the dirt " _I'm going to die here"_ she could barely even move, fear froze her and the monsters crowding certainly didn't help " _I'm sorry mom, dad, big brother Jaune I failed I-"_

She shut her eyes, praying for a quick death. The beast screeched and charged claws ready to rend them to nothing.

A sickening crunch and gurgled cries overtook her ears.

"What a pain" a voice, sounding quite young and rather annoyed. Still shaken, she managed to open her eyes and saw him.

The Death in the flesh, his hand held the crushed remains of what used to be a grimm's skull. He looked different from what he was described as.

A feathered tricorn hat and leather mask obscured his face, leaving his silver hair the only thing the huntress-in-training could see.

He wore thick leather trench coat, torn and faded from age and countless battles, thick enough to protect against a hit, beneath he wore a simple black vest. Oddly, a small white ribbon lay tied on his right forearm, completely out of place amongst his intimidating garb.

His pants and gloves matched his ensemble his boots bearing finely embroidered designs decorating it.

Oddly enough, he seemed to be wearing two gloves, one over the other, the first layer being made of the same material as his cloak, bearing the similar embroidery as his boots. The second layers were less impressive consisting of dingy, dirty white gloves.

But most eye catching of all were his weapons.

She may not have been much of weapons man, but the girl new a good weapon when she saw one. The stranger's weapons weren't one of them. They were some of the most exquisite pair she'd seen.

His sword seemed to be a finely crafted katana-saber hybrid; it was both beautiful and loathsome at the same time. Beautiful for its flowing design and masterfully crafted edge. And loathsome for the very same reasons, the blades flowing form giving it the disgusting semblance to flowing blood, its dull rust color completing the look.

The other was a gun. A finely crafted firearm, a single shot flintlock. It was bronze in color, with a long brass barrel, intricately designed with painstaking detail.

"Well, how 'bout we get this started already" he dropped the corpse "30 of you fucks? You should've brought more" a threatening air surrounded him as he readied his sword.

"The Hunts just begun!"

* * *

Cue: BBCP OST - Nightmare Fiction II

* * *

With a flourish, he lashed out with his blade, cutting down the three which had threatened the girl's sister. _27 to go._

With a flash, gleaming silver knives flew out, catching an oncoming group square in their face the corpses collapsing unto the ground as he spun back. _23 left._

Five more came from behind. The girl tried to warn him, but her worry was unfounded. With a flash of light he brought his sword down on them, 4 of the beasts reaped in half. The final one he snatched up by the neck. _19._

With a grunt of effort, he _threw_ the beast at a group of its companions 10 strong the sheer force killing the one he tossed as well as the one it impacted, the blast knocking the others away! _17 left, to easy._

3 were sent flying with a vicious high kick from the Hunter, a gaping hole in the first's torso. With a bark, his pistol finished the other two, their bodies exploding into chunks.

"Huh this is getting quite dull" he muttered to the remaining pack, the corpses of their kin already disintegrating. In another flash of light he landed in the midst of them. Faster than the eye could see, he tore at them with speed and savagery unmatched, cold fury emanating from him.

He backed away from the killing grounds, lazily avoiding a swipe from the Alpha.

"You're a big'n aren't ya?" he continued weaving through its clumsy attacks in an almost comical fashion as the alpha Beowulf futility attempted to land a hit on him.

Bored of its pathetic excuse for an assault, he landed a right hook to its side, knocking the wind out of it. With the beast on its knees, the Hunter calmly almost gracefully strode up to it. In brief flash, he relived the beast of its head and its life.

The young Arc looked on in awe as the Hunter continued the one sided onslaught, ripping and tearing into the grimm with ice cold fury.

The remaining ones got the message and began retreating, tails between their legs.

"Rude, you're leaving so soon?" he leveled his pistol fired again, and again, and again till all that remained were black flecks slowly dissolving into nothingness.

To kill one Beowulf? Unimpressive, but to kill a pack of 30 in one minuet without a scratch? " _Fucking Godlike!"_ the girl thought!

"Wait, Ava!" with the shock of the event nearly out of her system, the huntress ran to her sisters side.

"Thank the Brothers you're alright! I'm so, so, SO sorry!" tears stained her face as she drew her into a hug

"I-I-I'm fine sis pl-please just let go it hurts…"

She turned to face their mysterious savior.

The older girl stood agape while the younger one looked on with a mixture of awe and fear.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!?" Jane screeched.

"Sister! Language, what would mom and dad think…"

"I find your reaction… odd, all I did was finish the fight"

Typical, he just saved these girls and now they were screaming at him, well one of the at least.

The older girl was flabbergasted "A-F-WHAT? Y-you just _butchered_ an army of grimm! In like a minute! And that's your only reaction!"

The Hunter shrugged "Been through worse"

"I-I-I you know what, I just give up now"

"That was pretty cool mister…" Ava noted.

"What part of that was cold?" the Hunter replied perplexed.

"Um you know cool? As in that was pretty awesome despite how impossible it was!"

"Never heard the expression in my life"

"O-oh so you grew up in one of those outlying villages then?"

"…Sort of…" he was lying. He was certain telling them the truth was a one way ticket to an Asylum.

"So wait, where'd ya learn to fight like that?" Jane asked, wondering what sort of training he went through obtain such strength.

"An old warrior, he taught me the basics, adversity taught me the rest" his eyes wandered ahead, remembering back to his early days.

"Wow! He must've been an amazing huntsman!" the younger girl exclaimed.

"Huntsman?" he was unfamiliar with the term. Granted he hadn't been in this world long, the term Huntsman must've been their equivalent to Hunters.

"WAIT!" the older one ordered "Don't tell me you've never heard of a huntsman before, you know heroes of Remnant, virtuous warriors and all that fighting the Grimm?"

…

"You're joking right?" he asked voice full of disbelief.

"What do you mean by that?"

"There are no such things as heroes. Such things only exist in fairytales; the few that did exist never had happy endings"

"Take that back!" the girl snarled voice suddenly full of anger "Huntsmen and Huntresses risk their lives protecting the Kingdoms! Don't just go discounting them like that!"

"I am merely stating the truth; the idea in of itself is preposterous, those who think themselves heroes are bound to die"

He stared her down.

"Your earlier actions themselves are proof of that"

"That still doesn't mean you can insult them like that! My whole families been Huntsmen since the War!" the girl threw a pathetic punch at his chest "so don't go tramplin' on my goal!"

It surprised the Hunter that she still had that much energy in her.

"Very well, I still hold to my beliefs though, such idealistic things are… foreign to me"

Still the girl had a look of anger on her face. With a sigh she calmed herself.

"I suppose you don't even know what Dust is don't ya?"

"Of course I know, I am no fool, but what importance does dirt have anyhow?"

Everything went silent for a moment before the older Arc slapped herself.

"This… this is going to be a long walk isn't it?"

* * *

The children, Jane and Ava Arc as they were called, had given him a very, very abridged explanation of this world, Remnant. They had talked of the two races that inhabited the world humans and another referred to as faunus; beings with the forms of men but the traits of animals, according to them they weren't naturally so aggressive and that due to mistreatment by humans some had turned quite hostile to put it bluntly. The ones that chose the warpath were referred to as the White Fang. The same ones he'd so happened to have fought the other night, though he felt the need to keep said information from them.

They also spoke of the grimm, the dark beasts that plagued both races since the dawn of time. Soulless, twisted perversions of nature that crave nothing but to destroy all life. None are quite clear on their origin though generally the most accepted origin being that they were created by a so called black god of destruction as a means to spite his brother.

" _Maybe I should pay the fuck a visit sometime_ " the Hunter despised such vindictive deities or any divinity in general.

They explained to him the role of the Huntsmen and Huntress, civilizations guardians against the grimm who existed to defend the four major kingdoms; Vacuo, Atlas, Mistral, and Vale, where they were currently at.

" _To think this world is in such a state where children must fight, still such things are a necessity I suppose"_

What truly caught the Hunters attention Dust, Aura, and Semblances. Dust being a sort of archaic energy taking the form of crystals that harbored the immense power of the elements. Aura was another beast entirely, supposedly the soul of a being given form, or as he so eloquently put it that 'that weird glowing shit over people', capable of defending one against most mortal blows, enhancing one's own physical prowess, as well as even increasing ones natural recovery abilities. Though probably the most interesting of all were semblances, incredible powers which existed as an extension of ones aura wholly unique for each individual granting incredible a boon on the battlefield, ranging from energy projection to increased speed and the list went on.

" _If only I had those abilities during my Hunt, would've made a lot of that shit much more bearable"_

They had put it out in a way that all that remained of civilization were shut away in walled kingdoms and small outlying settlements constantly under siege from the grimm, but the town before him gave him a completely different opinion.

The Hunter saw it before the girls could, the tall spires of chimneys rising from the sea of green, a low stone wall surrounding it the town was close.

"And here we are! The town of Salus!" Jane declared proudly, sure it wasn't her home, but it was where she and her sister stayed while classes were around. Way closer to Signal than her real home. To them it was a welcoming sight after the whole debacle in the forest.

To the Hunter however it was… jarring.

Even before the Hunt he was never comfortable around others. Not that he particularly hated people; he just never really understood how to be around others. The Hunt did little to help his deposition

Now? Now he was surrounded by strangers and they were… happy.

" _How?"_ a question he asked himself since they arrived " _how can they be so calm so… blissful? The way those girls described this world, they made it out to be almost as bad as mine"_

They barely even regarded him, with only a few cursory glances here and there. Back in Yharnam he rarely even meet with someone without locking up the moment they saw him.

"Well, our inn is just 'round the corner there!" Jane pointed of to a low stone building.

She turned to face him "well then now that we're here I don't suppose you'd be so kind to explain to the rest of our sister why we look like we just crawled out of a scrap heaps?"

"You face the consequences of your actions girl; I've no say in it…" he answered brusquely, pushing past her.

"Well, guess I tried…" Jane was dreading; she just knew the rest of her siblings would chew her out for today, then her parents then Jaune. It wasn't going to be pleasant.

"So this is goodbye then?" Ava didn't really know how to reply to the man in front of her; sure he was rude, blunt and used a lot of bad words, but he still saved them.

"Spose' so… better this way in the end…" he was already a ways of from them before the younger girl realized something.

"H-hey! We never got your name!"

But he'd long since vanished past the sea of strangers.

* * *

It had been sometime since he left Salus, striking out again to the wilds, though not before stopping by the local library. A rough outline of this world wasn't going to serve him well, not after discovering the complexities of it all.

After a few mishaps involving the arcane technology they called 'computers' he was soon digging through eras worth of information… in about an hour. Being a fast reader has its benefits, and having inhuman insight certainly didn't hurt, unless it involved Frenzy, but that was another matter entirely.

His austerely plan was starting to take shape, it would take decades, possibly centuries, but it would be done. He would see this world unshackled from the grip of the beasts, both those of shadows and in the flesh of men.

He'd be noticed sooner or later, but for now he'd do as Hunters were meant to do; to fight in the shadows.

" _Well now Gehrman, looks like I've got my work cut out for me"_

* * *

 _2 months later..._

"*SIGH* This is not going to be an easy day now is it?" a silver hair man groaned to himself.

Said man was currently seated in a sealed room, its expansive glass windows giving an impressive view of the city below. Massive cogs clicked away in monotony as he leaned back.

Prof .Ozpin was not having a good day. First he was informed that the staff coffee machine was out denying him his favored beverage, and now?

He stared long and hard at the reports glowing on the tables screen.

" _2 months. 2 months and it still hasn't stopped"_ a map displayed itself onscreen, projecting the entirety of Vales landmass, on its surface various areas were marked of and connected in a crude path, all the while side monitors streamed out various news reports, internet videos, articles, even military documents all pertaining to a string of incidents currently upturning the kingdoms relative peace.

It had started suddenly; once it did events spiraled out of control. Whole strongholds of White Fang, utterly annihilated, scores of grimm decimated to the last monster.

Earliest reports date back 2 months prior, starting with scattered reports of massive grimm hoards massing of in the south, enough to cause real concern. Ozpin was quite close to calling for the Atlas military, when something far… stranger occurred and most definitely more worrying.

Said grimm were almost immediately wiped out. Details were unclear, the only real piece of evidence being scattered reports coming from forward scouts and freelance huntsmen, accordingly a single man had done the deed. Information was deemed unrealistic, even by Ozpin himself, though he still held a lingering doubt.

Then more grimm started appearing, and again the cycle repeated itself time and time again for a whole month. All of them in separate, unrelated locales, the one thing in common? The same reports of their mystery man, ever increasing in amount and detail, far too numerous to be held as mere rumor any longer.

Even then only so much could be strained from said accounts, with varying details and descriptions of what Ozpin assumed to be the same individual, each assigning the person with wildly differing weapons, with one account even stating, and Ozpin was quoting here, that the man wielded a 'badass pizza-cutter' with an even wilder reports professing that a wheel was the warriors weapon, coupled with what the scout ascribed to being an old fashion ships cannon… made portable.

The only thing held constant were his odd articles of clothing, appearing as one huntsman recorded 'blacker than any grimm, black as midnight' and the persons actions. They never made themselves known, neither on the battlefield nor had they been seen entering any towns or cities. All reports purporting to them had been sketchy at best, with almost all of them being fleeting glimpses of the warrior leaving the battlefields, rare few actually caught them in action. And those that did gave the most worrying of the reports.

Grimm were crushed, battered and ripped apart, broken like children's playthings, with one huntsman, a veteran of the craft stating that in all his years he had never seen such brutality, not even from the grimm. Indeed, it seemed that the monsters were actively avoiding combat with the warrior, as insane as the very idea was.

And that was only the beginning. Sure, Ozpin admitted, such events were worrying, but they were in the end rather beneficial, grimm attacks had dropped to an all-time low, the worst attack this month had been a runaway ursa running amok in a remote town, though no real damage was done.

That was until the first base was found, or rather what remained of it. Most likely due to the buzz the aforementioned events were generating, and the general panic of the grimm hoards, few had noticed it until after the panic died down. Along with the grimm, the infamous White Fang were unusually quiet.

It was the accidental discovery of a looping SOS recovered from a hidden Fang bandwidth that set off the horrid discovery; a transmission, far to damaged to be made any real sense of; it was initially branded of as a by-product of the massing grimm, an unfortunate case of being at the wrong place at the wrong time.

That was until an Atlas investigation team was deployed to search the base, hoping to at least recover some of the stolen inventory the Fang had gathered. What they found was far worse, in all his life Ozpin had never seen and probably would never see such carnage in reality scenes from nightmares made manifest.

He had to stop after the first image, what man, if indeed the culprit was anything remotely human would kill another man _with the spine of his comrade?_

The poor men who made the discovery had been mercifully given the help they needed. And so did the others who found the remains of the _other_ strongholds.

It soon became clear that whoever their mystery huntsman was they were dangerous, possibly even surpassing _Her._

Though, what trully sent chills down the headmaster's spine was how all to similar said events were to an ancient legend, one predating even the tale of the Maidens. If such events were even remotely related to that anceint epic, it would spell doom, not only for Vale, but for the entirety of Remnant itself.

In the end, Ozpin was left with a single, suicidal option.

He could only pray to the Brothers James' plan would succeed.

* * *

 **And that's a wrap!**

 **Finally,** _ **finally**_ **I finished this chapter!**

 **Again sorry for the delay, but school has been fucking murder.**

 **That and I've been working on another project. I'll probably add a teaser to my new fanfic in the next chapter, you know if the next one comes out by next week.**

 **Anyways, this has been N3Ber1us signing out!**

 **update: added a little bit of info to explian what happens next chapter**

 **8/30/2017**


End file.
